To have and to hold …
A conversation in the car [on the way back from MFI or FurnitureLand, or some such place] a couple of months ago …
him: so, maybe we should start thinking about setting a date then.
her: oh … [pause] … ok.
A conversation a month or so ago …
her: i saw this beautiful little registry office whilst sitting on the bus on my way to the dyslexia course and we should get married there because then i can say we’re getting married in ***** and it will confuse people – *giggle*.
him: haha … [pause] … yeh, it’s not that funny Elsabeth.
A conversation from a week or so ago …
her: so, are we going to set a date?
her: only i need to think about how to fit it in around school holidays and whatnot.
her: so, i’m thinking <insert date sometime in 2006 here>?
him: no. that would be like getting married on christmas day.
her: but i’d love to get married at christmas – *jumps around like an excited puppy* – can we get married at christmas?
her: fine … *rolls eyes and gets snappy* … it will have to be the sunday then. or the monday maybe.
[if you knew the first date I suggested you’d understand why he said no, only I think it would be funny, but then I have been accused of having a weird sense of humour]
A few days later …
her: well, we haven’t done much talking about a wedding.
him: oh, i thought you were looking into it. i’m leaving it all up to you.
I do want to get married. But I can’t decide on precisely what I want. I’m not even sure how much money we have that is spendable on a wedding.
Being the introvert that I am, I’m desperate to have a small ceremony with close friends and family. But the extrovert-me [that mostly just hides in my head] begs for a big celebration.
I can’t stand being the focus of attention. I’ll glow a nasty shade of pink, stumble ungracefully and slur through the wedding vows.
I know that I don’t want to wear white. I know who I’ll ask to be my bridesmaids. I know what flowers I want [depending on the colour coordination of the dress, and I know the dress style that I want because I saw it in a shop window over a year ago]. I know who will make and ice the cake. I know that I don’t want some traditional photographer, but someone who will take funky non-posed pictures to really capture the spirit of my day. I know who The Blokey will ask to be best-man.
I can’t stop looking at websites that do invitations.
I know that I want Mumsy to give me away.
My hair is getting longer and I want to play with styles for it.
I don’t even like Champagne, so I’ll be cheap and go for sparkling white wine of the Asti variety.
See, so much has already been thought of. But then we get to the little things and then my head starts to implode. Where will we get married? Can we get a discount at one of the university colleges because both The Blokey’s parents work there? How many people will the local registry office hold? I’m not religious but was brought up going to church and so will I feel a tad frustrated that I won’t be able to have a few religious odds and sods thrown in? Will this make me cry? Should I think about getting married in church? Does that mean I’d have to start attending, albeit briefly? Shall we have a buffet or a sit-down-four-course affair? Who will do the music and will they play the music I want them to play?
I need a fairy-godmother who will wave her sparkly wand and sort it all out for me.
Or I need to just elope. Gretna Green’s gone out of fashion recently – maybe that’s our best bet.
Pah [not even worthy of an exclamation mark].
I should just have a baby instead.
But that just throws a whole new set of confusing questions into the equation. Grrr.
please God bless this nesting instinct brought on by hormones who know that i’m getting old and are trying to kick me up the backside before it’s all too late xxx Elsabeth